The Younger Brother
by Red Dragonfly
Summary: At the height of his power, Kaiba has crushed his foster father and is now maneuvering to destroy someone else. A story of money, power, family, betrayal, revenge, and Kaiba’s transformation into a cold, ruthless villain.
1. Chapter 1

**The Younger Brother**

Full Summary:

At the height of his power, Kaiba has crushed his foster father and is maneuvering to destroy someone else. A story of money, power, family, betrayal, revenge, and Kaiba's transformation into a cold, ruthless villain. If you like power struggles, dark psychology, and random bits of info, you may like it.

Takes place between Gozaburo's death and the Death-T Tournament. Rated for language, violence, and a complete lack of ethical characters.

Disclaimer:

These characters are not mine:

Kaiba Seto, (known in the English dub as Seto Kaiba) whom Mokuba calls Niisama (a very strange and formal way of saying Big Brother)

Kaiba Mokuba

Kaiba Gozaburo

Mouto Yuugi

Pegasus J. Crawford (a.k.a. Maximillian Pegasus)

But Matsumura, Torao, etc. are mine.

I am but a humble college student and own neither the Yu-Gi-Oh card game, manga, or anime series. However all three do come into my story.

Special thanks to Janime for the translated manga. I used some of the dialogue in the story.

AUTHOR'S CONFESSION—IF YOU PLAN TO READ THE PROLOGUE AND/ OR EPILOGUE (which is recommended), PLEASE READ!

I have written a story based upon the Death-T Tournament manga arch without actually reading most of the Death-T Tournament arch.

Please don't hate me.

The story doesn't quite follow the manga universe or the anime universe. It's not AU, but I decided to take certain liberties with the manga, combining what I know from the anime, to make the story work.

Here's what you need to know:

Kaiba hosts the Death-T Tournament for the express purpose of both beating Yuugi and stealing the fourth Blue Eyes from Yuugi's grandpa. The Death-T has five levels. I didn't read what happens in the first three. (It's safe to say that Yuugi wins.) But in the fourth level Yuugi faces Mokuba. (I must emphasize, that it is Mokuba's choice to be in the tournament. Kaiba is actually opposed to it.)

In the manga, at this time, Mokuba is a brat. He tries to poison Yuugi and his friends directly before the tournament begins. Mokuba's specialty is Cap Monsters. I've heard there might have been cheating involved in the game, but as I actually didn't get to read that part of the manga, I can't be sure. All I know is that, in the end, Mokuba loses.

It appears that at each level, the loser had to face a punishment known as the Death Stimulator. The Death Stimulator is exactly what it sounds like.  
Armed with this knowledge, you can now safely read the prologue.

**Prologue**

**Mokuba's Sorrow**

_At the Death-T Tournament, Fourth Level_

"How can it be? I…I actually…I actually lost?"

I couldn't think of anything but that I'd let my big brother down. Yuugi, self-righteous nobody that he was, would pass onto the next level. He would face my brother. And Id….

I'd be left behind.

I glared at my opponent. "Damn, you cheater…."

Yuugi hadn't cheated, but I didn't care. Did he think he was the only one playing for his family? I had lost and losing was a sign of weakness and my brother didn't tolerate weakness. I had tried to make myself stronger. I had even broken the rules, like he said I could. But somehow I had still lost.

Yuugi must have cheated. There wasn't any other explanation.

I heard the TV monitor flicker on. My brother. My insides turned cold.

First, he congratulated Yuugi and told him he would be his opponent for the final level. Then he turned to me.

"Niisama, I.…"

I wanted to explain how Yuugi had cheated. I wanted to tell him that I wasn't weak. But I lost my voice just then.

Seto's eyes were hard. He looked at me the same way he looked at our late foster father.

"Long time ago," Seto said in a cold, cold voice, "I had the feeling that at my back, a useless dog like you, was staring at me. I told you before that people who play with fire burn themselves at the end!"

Fear flooded through me, and my insides twisted. It felt like he'd stabbed me.

"You should understand," my brother continued, "only the winner can step out of that box! The loser will be punished! That is the rule of the game!"

I blinked. White fog was billowing up. It was filling the glass box.

My mind wouldn't work just then. It looked like the Death Stimulator was starting up. But that was impossible, because Seto was my brother. He wouldn't….

A pair of yellow eyes stared at me.

…use the Death Stimulator on…

Teeth gleamed. Claws formed.

…me.

I shivered. The fog was cold.

It had become scales.

Scales all around me. A long snout and those ragged yellow eyes. I was looking at a dragon.

He was using it! My mind finally snapped around the fact. He was really using the Death Stimulator on me!

The dragon opened its mouth. Red flames swirled inside.

"NIISAMA, HELP!" I screamed.

"Get a hold of my hand!"

For one dazed moment, I really thought it was my brother.

I grabbed the hand. The person yanked me out. The dragon's flames missed, and I tumbled out of the glass box onto the floor. I stood there for a moment, panting. Then I looked up to see who had saved me.

"Yuugi?"

My enemy had saved me? I clutched my head. My enemy had saved me?

My brother had always said not to trust my enemies. Don't be nice to anyone. Don't show any weakness. Don't lose.

My brother, who had….

_Mokuba, if you can't let go of this mocking brotherly relationship you will forever be a loser_! He had told me this earlier.

I curled up my fist. "Damn it!" I screamed.

I had done everything he had said! I had done everything he ever taught me to do! Why had he turned against me? Why didn't he want me around?

I felt hollow. I reached for my locket and opened it. My brother's picture was in there from when he was ten. He was playing chess. He was smiling. Really smiling.

That picture was taken the day before we were adopted.

_Niisama, from that day on you had completely changed._ I remembered how his eyes became dim and cold, gleaming only at the thought of power and death. I shuddered._ It was like...it was like you were possessed by a devil_.

I clenched the picture and held it close to my heart. I wanted my big brother back. But I was helpless. I couldn't even beat Yuugi.

Yuugi. The thought echoed dimly in my mind.

He was an enemy, and my brother told me not to trust him. But I was sick of listening to my brother's advice. It hadn't done me any good.

I opened my eyes.

"Yuugi!" I called as he left. "I hope you can change Niisama."

He didn't look back. But somehow, I felt hopeful. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but after all, if he beat me…

Maybe, he could beat my brother, too.

And maybe that would be enough to change him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter One**

**The Family Name**"The family name is 　　　," said the brown haired youth. He cracked his knuckles together, but his expression remained unchanged. Calm, set, cool. "The first name is Torao. His wife's name is Tamako. Before she was married, Tamako's family name was Ueda. They have two boys, I believe, one ten and one fifteen."

Matsumura Huyu scrawled the names on his yellow pad of paper. There was a massive hole punched into the window, Matsumura couldn't help but notice. A thin sheet of plastic covered it, and it rustled and flapped anytime a strong gust of wind whipped through.

"Ueda," Matsumura muttered. "Any relation to Ueda Industries."

The boy smiled in a steely way. His eyes were an intense blue.

"　　　is president."

"I see. And what kind of information are you looking for exactly?" asked Matsumura, looking up from his notes.

"Something that will ruin his company. I've asked my lawyers to look through Ueda Industries financial records. The records are flawless. So I want you to look through his personal life and find for me something devastating about him."

"Forgive me, but how will that help ruin his company?"

"Whether I ruin his company or ruin him doesn't much matter. The end result is the same."

Matsumura nodded. His client sat up perfectly straight in his black leather chair at the head of the long table. Though young, this boy bore no trace of childishness in his manner. He kept his hands folded and wore an expression of absolute assurance.

There was a slight breeze coming from the broken window. Matsumura, flipped the page of his notebook.

"That's the family, then?"

"Yes."

"Good. I will get back to you within a week."

As Matsumura packed his notepad into his old leather suitcase, a young boy, about ten or so, with long black hair came running in.

"Niisama—"

"What have a told you about coming in here, Mokuba?" replied his brother coldly.

"I—but I—"

"Well..."

The raven head drooped. "Not to come in this room, because it's dangerous, since the window broke."

"Right. Besides which, I'm in an important meeting."

"I know, but... but Niisama, I found the adoption papers."

Blue eyes glinted. "Where?"

"In a safe behind the portrait."

The brown-haired youth coolly turned back to Matsumura. "Business has been concluded. I'll be expecting your report."

With a bow, Matsumura left the room. He left the door open, then paused to listen as he walked down the hall.

"Put it with his other stuff," said the older boy. "Go home and have the butler prepare a bon fire in our yard. When I come home, we'll burn it all together."

Matsumura walked to a nearby coffee shop. He ordered tea, poured in cream, and stirred the milky liquid round and round with a spoon. Opening his old brown bag, he lifted out an old copy of The Domino Daily, a pair of scissors, and a new, yellow file folder.

Matsumura cleaned his glasses. He clipped a newspaper article.

"Ueda Industries Stock Soars Six Years Running"

The article told of the double-digit growth of the small, but rapidly growing company, which had succeeded in becoming the second largest in the city. Under it, in the slightly smudged black and white of newsprint, was a picture of Torao.

He was a slick-haired businessman, just entering his forties: a tall man, nearly six feet; handsome, with a winning smile.

Matsumura took out a black marker and wrote Torao on the file folder. He put the article inside.

Then he lifted out a second file folder and wrote, in deep black ink, Kaiba.

Carefully, with all the precision of a man studied in his profession, he clipped the main article from the newspaper. "Prominent Businessman Commits Suicide," the headlines screamed.

With a pad of post-it strips in hand, Matsumura scanned through it.

"Kaiba Corporation—Domino City was shocked when business owner, Kaiba Gozaburo, CEO of Kaiba Corporation, committed suicide by jumping through the window of his company headquarters and plummeting twenty stories to his death. The trigger for this sudden death leap was apparently caused by stockowners of Kaiba Corporation insisting that he step down in favor of his son—"

Matsumura paused. He scribbled on the post it note the word "Adopted" and stuck it right before the word "son."  
"—Kaiba Seto, 16. Called a genius by his peers and teachers, young Kaiba already has a strong talent for both business and invention. About the death of his father, Kaiba Seto has responded, 'His suicide came as quite a shock, but he will, of course, be missed—' "

Matsumura wrote "lie" and stuck it right after "missed."

" '—The funeral will be held within the next two days.'

"The contributions of Kaiba Gozaburo to the City of Domino are enormous. The Corporation he began contributed to the economic growth and employment of Domino, but in his private life he was also a great philanthropist, giving large sums to Domino Orphanage, and also a great gamer, holding the chess championship ten years running. Kaiba Seto, himself an expert gamesman, has promised that the charitable donations will not cease. He has hinted that Kaiba Corporation will be moving in a new direction, one which honors the spirit of gaming that both he and his father holds dear.

"In other news, there is some controversy as to the fate of Kaiba Seto and his younger brother—"

Matsumura wrote "Mokuba" and smoothed it onto the article.

"—both of whom are under the legal adult age and are now made orphans with the tragic death of their father."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Two**

**Chess and Blue Eyes**

Seto was late again. He strode into the first floor library with his sleeves rumpled (as if they had been rolled up and then smoothed down again), his fingers twitching and an expression on his face that was both abstract and intense, all of which told Mokuba he had been in the Kaiba Corporation Labs again.

"Niisama," said Mokuba tentatively. No response. Seto sat down on one of the armchairs and tinkered with a piece on a nearby chess set.

Mokuba had thought that once Seto took over Kaiba Corporation, he would have more time to spend with him, not less. And even when Seto came home, he was like this, tired and unresponsive. It was almost as bad as the times Gozaburo made him study all day long.

Mokuba squirmed impatiently. Normally his brother didn't like to be bothered right after he got home, but this time Mokuba had something important to say.

"Niisama, the social worker came twice today."

Seto's eyes turned to him sharply. "What?"

"And the second time she brought the police. The butler wouldn't let her in, but she said that sooner or later…"

Seto's hand curled into a fist. The chess piece disappeared inside.

"…I'd have to be taken into custody," he finished.

The fist pounded on the chessboard. Mokuba flinched. The chess pieces scattered, wildly, violently, clattering as they fell.

"Damn it!" Seto yelled. "Why are they so damn persistent with us! Sixteen year old drug addicts with not a dime to support themselves have kids, and nobody tries to take them away from them, but when I try to get custody of my brother, they tell me I'm too young!" He pounded the chessboard again. "Damn it!"

If his brother was this mad, things must not be going well. As he watched Seto rant, Mokuba thought of the orphanage again. It was a small, cozy house with a swing in the front yard and a little room to play games, and lots of kids running around and being totted to and fro by kindly old women. But without his brother, it was the loneliest place in the world.

"Seto," he asked quietly, "are we going to be separated?"

The noise stopped. Mokuba looked up. His brother stared at him with a composed, mildly amused expression on his face. "What gave you an idea like that?" he said.

"The social worker says it's against the rules. She kept telling me…."

"Who makes the rules Mokuba?" Seto asked him.

"Um, councilmen, I think."

"Wrong. Those with the money make the rules. Those with the power can change the rules." A chilly smile crossed his brother's face. "Listen carefully," he said. "What I am going to tell you is more important than anything you may learn in school. In the game of life, this is the only thing you need to know to play: Rules are arbitrary."

He paused. Mokuba, who had been standing, folded his legs and sat on the floor next to him. Seto unwound his fist and flipped the single white piece through his fingers,

"Chess, for example," he said. "Chess is one of the oldest and most structured games in the world. It was played since the eleventh century at least. Back then, though, there was one important difference. This piece," he said, holding up the slim white figure, "was one of the most useless pieces in the game."

He was holding the queen. "But that's the most powerful piece," said Mokuba.

"Back then, the queen could only move diagonally, like a bishop, and only one space at a time. But the queen began to change during the fifteenth century. Why do you think that is?"

"I don't know."

"In Europe, during the fifteenth century, some of the most powerful rules were queens. Queen Isabella of Spain. Queen Elizabeth of England. And so the rules changed.

"Know, this Mokuba: the rules won't change on a whim. People make them change. People who have power. The rule in life is simple then: if you want things to change, be stronger than everybody else."

He set the piece on the chessboard, the only one still standing, and straightened it.

"But isn't that… sort of… cheating?" asked Mokuba.

"It's manipulation of environment," said Seto. "No, it isn't cheating."

"So then we won't get separated." He blew out his breath in relief.

Seto nodded. "That's the most important thing for me, Mokuba. That's what money is for. It may buy us many things. But the only thing money is really good for is power."

Mokuba nodded. Money equals power, power equals change and change means you could do anything. Well, not everything.

"But there's some rules that can't be broken," said Mokuba. "I mean, even with money, you can't just murder people or anything, right?"

An eerie light possessed Seto's eyes. "You can get close."

Mokuba gulped. Sometimes his brother really scared him.

His brother stood up, eyes their calm and normal blue. "Enough about the social worker. We were going to have a bonfire tonight. Is everything prepared?"

Mokuba grinned fiercely. "We have all of Tousama's things in a big box and the wood is piled high."

"Good."

Mokuba sprinted ahead, down the hall towards the backdoor. He could hear his brother's footsteps, steady, following him. Mokuba threw open the door and told the butler to get the fire started.

Mokuba took the old cardboard box he had put everything in and proudly showed it to his brother. "Here it is, Niisama. Here's all of Tousama's stuff."

"Once the fire has started, we'll throw the whole box in," said Seto, barely glancing at it.

Mokuba nodded. His brother was…well, not smiling exactly. But his face was calm and the edges of his lips curled faintly… and that was the closest Mokuba had seen to a real smile for the last six years.

The butler doused the wood with gasoline and threw in a match. The wood burst into flames. Red tongues licked the black night. Smiling happily, Mokuba looked toward his brother. Seto stood straight, with orange glow against his face. His eyes were adrift and his expression suddenly became troubled.

"Mokuba," he said, "bring me that box now!"

Mokuba walked over. "What's wrong?"

Seto snatched the box from him. Restlessly, frantically, he began rooting through the box, throwing old papers and floppy disks aside.

"Niisama, what...?"

Slowly, almost shaking, Seto drew out a Blue-Eyed White Dragon card.

"Were you going to burn this?" Seto asked, looking coldly at Mokuba.

"I…but you said you didn't want it anymore."

0 0 0

Mokuba had been there when Seto bought his first pack of Duel Monsters cards, with a little money Gozaburo gave him for allowance. He had snuck it into one of his textbooks and hidden it for the entire day. Later that night, Mokuba had crept out of bed, just after his stepfather had gone to sleep.

Seto was yawning into a book on advanced logarithms. "What time is it?" he asked when he saw Mokuba.

"Two o'clock. Tousama's gone to bed."

Seto slammed the book shut. He took out a book on computer sciences and slowly drew the cards from a CD case in the back.

Mokuba held the flashlight. The beams glinted over the metallic covering. Seto smoothly ripped the pack. Something flashed underneath. Breathless with suspense, Mokuba peered over to look, while his brother brought the card out for both to see.

It was the Blue Eyed White Dragon.

For a moment, they both just stared, without saying anything. The picture was holographic, the scales shining silver, the eyes glaring blue. Mokuba looked at the attack and had to choke back a yelp.

"Three thousand! That's more than…!" He glanced backwards to make sure no one else was around. "That's more than I've ever seen. That has to be the strongest duel monster there is."

Seto stared at the card, as though entranced. "This card," he said at last, "is very precious to me. Because it represents all the power I may one day have. Someday, perhaps, I will be a worthy master of such a powerful card."

"What?" asked Mokuba.

"Nothing," said Seto. He put the Blue Eyes into the CD case and closed the book shut. "It's late. You should get to sleep."

"But the rest of the cards..." Mokuba protested.

"All worthless," said Seto. "This is the only card that means anything."

The next day, after school, Gozaburo called Seto and Mokuba into the dining room. He had just returned from an important meeting, and he looked pleased with himself.

"Know what I've got here?" he said. He pulled out the Blue-Eyed White Dragon card.

Mokuba was shocked. How had he found it so soon? From the corner of his eye, he saw his brother's eyes grow dark and his fists tighten, but Gozaburo didn't seem to notice.

"This," Gozaburo said, "is the single most powerful card in Duel Monsters, that fancy new card game going around. It was given to me by the creator of duel monsters himself, Pegasus J. Crawford."

Given? Mokuba jolted. Then it wasn't Seto's?

"Pegasus J. Crawford and I are on the verge of signing a deal," he continued. "Crawford's industry is in silly games, but he has higher ambitions for his pet project, this duel monster game. For that he needs Kaiba Corp. As a token of his goodwill, he gave me this Blue Eyed White Dragon, a card so rare it's worth ten thousand American dollars."

Ten thousand dollars? Mokuba's eyes popped. He knew the card was strong, but he didn't know it was that valuable.

"How rare is it?" Seto asked, almost off-handedly.

"There are only four in the world."

And Seto got one on his first try? Mokuba knew that his brother didn't believe in things like luck, but still, getting a Blue-Eyed White Dragon card on his first try….

"It goes to show you, what power can do," said Gozaburo, with a laugh. "I have no intention of making a deal with him. But he doesn't know that, so I forced him to give me the most valuable card in the game. This will go into my safe with the rest of my conquests." He laughed again. "Now you boys get back to your studies."

Mokuba turned to leave, but stopped when he noticed his brother wasn't moving. Seto was standing there, shaking. "That's the strongest monster in the game," he said through clenched teeth and clenched fists, "and you're not even going to use it."

"What I do with my own things is my own business," said Gozaburo coldly. "Get back to work."

For a moment, Mokuba really thought his brother wasn't going to listen. His eyes seethed, a strangely murderous blue. Then, he made a cold smile, and turned to leave.

"He may have a Blue Eyes that looks exactly like mine, but mine's is more valuable," Seto muttered, as he headed to his pile of textbooks, "I will create a deck for mine: the strongest deck in the world. My Blue Eyes will make me champion. His will gather dust in his safe."

"Niisama, he won't notice if maybe... if maybe we take it..."

0 0 0

"No, Mokuba," said Seto. "I don't want his polluted card. It can rot in his safe, and he can rot in hell."

Now Seto held Gozaburo's card in his hand for the first time, fondly stroking the outer edges and staring deeply into the shining picture.

"I changed my mind," he said, and put the card in his pocket. "I'll keep this. Our foster father was evil, but even from evil men, there are some things worth taking."

Then he walked up to the fire and fed the rest of the box to the flames.

(For future referenece, the 0 0 0 will mark a pause or space break. For some reason the document formatting won't let me do space breaks or asteriks or anything else.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Three**

**An Interview**

"Yes, I know of Kaiba Seto and Kaiba Mokuba," said the social worker with a sigh. She had limp hair piled high and large, droopy glasses. "Tragic, really. Orphaned twice in their lives, and Mokuba not twelve."

"I understand there's some controversy about Mokuba's adoption."

"He's far too young to be on his own. Both are too young, really." She pushed the glasses further up the ridge of her nose.

"Kaiba Seto is untouchable," she continued. "As the heir to Kaiba Corporation and, by consensus of the board, CEO, he has the money and the maturity to be declared legally independent."

"But Mokuba does not."

"He's only eleven! And his brother spends all day at work. It pains me to separate them, but Seto, legally independent or not, has not the time or the maturity to raise his little brother."

"I see. Kaiba Seto made a bid to adopt his younger brother."

"His lawyers are pushing very hard for it, with all the clout of Kaiba Corp," she said bitterly. "Do not underestimate the power that corporation has on this town; his lawyers came very close to striking a bargain with certain lawmakers as to the custody rights of Mokuba. In the interest of keeping siblings together, they would have allowed Mokuba to remain with his brother until Seto turned eighteen and could legally adopt him. This plan might have succeeded if I hadn't found an alternative."

"What alternative?"

"A perfect one." She absentmindedly slicked a few stray hairs into her tottering pile. "Would you believe that the Kaiba brothers have an uncle?"

"Is that so?"

"Yes. Their biological father's younger brother, Torao. And wouldn't you know, he's the president of Ueda Industries. Must run in the family. Between his family connection and his money, he can compete head to head with whatever claims Kaiba is making as to blood and financial stability."

"You met Torao?"

"His wife, Tamako. She's a wonderful person. They have two boys of their own, and they live in a nice house just outside the city. This way, the brothers can still see each other every so often."

"But if they were orphaned twice, shouldn't this uncle have stepped in the first time and adopted them then?"

"Yes, I asked about that. But Tamako explained that at that time they couldn't afford to adopt the boys because Ueda Industries was in danger of bankruptcy and the family was under constant strain. But now, with things looking up, Tamako sees no reason why they can't adopt them: or at least, Mokuba, if the elder Kaiba insists on remaining independent."

"And what does Torao think of this."

"Oh, he's delighted. He loves kids."

"Thank you," said Matsumura Huyu.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Four:**

**Inheritance**

Kaiba sat in the office once belonging to his father, and rubbed his fingers on the edges of the Blue Eyed White Dragon card. The second one. The holographic gleam of the white scales and the blazing, blue eyes dazzled him. The elegance. The sheer strength.

He had sworn before to have nothing to do with that card. Then again, he had also sworn to build the most powerful deck around his first blue eyes. And what was more powerful than a second?

Besides, there had been something infinitely satisfying about taking it.

It was just a few days passed when the board members lined up behind Kaiba Seto and declared their allegiance to him. His foster father's face twisted and grimaced. Was it frustration? Rage? Hate?

"From today on Kaiba Corporation is mine," Kaiba had said, leaning back slightly and folding up his fingers. "This is the method you taught me."

Those hard eyes gleamed. They broke. Kaiba could still see them: wild, tiny specks under bushy silver brows.

"Seto," his father cried, "it looks like, in this game that we played, I am the loser!"

His mouth jutted wide; a demented grin curled at the edges.

"Each gamble has a risk and a gambler has to be ready to lose. The person who loses has to quietly comply and accept their fate!"

…The shattering sounded like cymbals clashing at an orchestra's climax. The white shards of glass, reflecting sunlight, seemed to hang breathless in the air, even as the dark, heavy suit plummeted down, down, down….

The plastic rustled faintly over the broken window. Kaiba smiled as he took out his laptop. There was no rush to fix it, no rush at all.

He heard the intercom buzz. His secretary's voice hung in the air. "Matsumura to see you, Mr. Kaiba. He says he has information regarding your uncle."

Uncle? Kaiba put his deck in his suitcase and snapped it down loudly. "Tell him I'll see him now," he answered darkly.

0 0 0

Matsumura Huyu was an older man, around fifty, with thin hair and bland clothes and an unpenetrateable, serene demeanor. He looked out of place as he shuffled slowly into Kaiba Corp, a sad, slumped, brown figure amid sharp-edged steel and glass. He sat at the table and calmly removed a yellow file folder and a pair of glasses from an old leather bag.

Kaiba flipped his laptop monitor down coolly. "I don't like it when detectives snoop in my personal life," he said. He gazed through him.

Matsumura did not flinch. "Then that's why your other detectives never found anything," he remarked mildly. "Tell me," he said, wiping the lenses of his glasses, "what do you know about your inheritance? From your biological father, I mean."

"What does this have to do with ruining Torao?"

"Everything. What do you know?"

Kaiba shrugged. "Between me and Mokuba, it was somewhere around $500,000: $200,000 from the insurance, $300,000 from the sale of land and property." It had been a large sum at the time. Now it was nothing. Pocket change.

"I see," said Matsumura. "Then you don't know about your other inheritance."

"What other inheritance?"

"15 of the stock of Ueda Industries."

Kaiba blinked. "What?"

"Split evenly between you and your brother, of course." Matsumura unfolded his glasses and put them on his face. He took out a notepad from the file folder, and licking his fingers to turn the page, he read what was scrawled there.

"It began before you were born, when your grandfather died. Your grandfather was an old-fashioned sort of man or else, he recognized that his second son had the habit of spending himself into huge debts; either way, he left most of the money to your father, the oldest. At this time, Torao was dating Ueda Tamako."

Kaiba tapped his fingers impatiently. The detective ignored him.

"Torao convinced your father to invest all of his inheritance into Ueda Industries stock. Since Ueda Industries was just starting up, he ended up with about 15. Torao was able to afford about 3. The company grew nicely and your father and your uncle made good dividends.

"Eight years ago, as you know, Ueda Industries was facing bankruptcy. Tamako's father, Ueda Nobunaga, was becoming senile, but he wouldn't step down. With 40 of company stock, he was the majority shareholder. Your father held onto his 15 but was not interested in company politics; he wanted to sell. Your uncle would have been happy to buy it from him, but he had spent all his money, and your father wouldn't hear of him taking out a bank loan. The two argued vehemently for many days."

Matsumura glanced up; he had pale, watery eyes.

"Then, suddenly, your father died. Car accident, as you know—nothing shady about it. But, apparently, shortly afterwards, Ueda was forced to retire. Torao was named president, both because he had played a large role in the coup but also because he was the second largest stockholder, with a grand total of 18 of company stock."

"Stock that wasn't his," said Kaiba.

"Precisely. Your father never left a will, but it's common inheritance law in Domino that, in an absence of the will, all property goes directly to the next of kin, in this case, the children of the deceased. Substantial sums of money and stock go into trust accounts until the children are 18 and can claim it. Although I believe that just this year, a law was passed stating that assets such as stock, which are unstable, can be sold by the child's caretaker and the money placed in a trust fund."

"Hm." Kaiba folded his fingers along the desk. Now, he knew why his uncle was interested in Mokuba: he could legally sell the 7.5 back to himself and there would be nothing either Kaiba or Mokuba could do about it.

Kaiba tapped one finger softly across the heavy wood. Something didn't make sense. Torao had been perfectly happy to hold the stock illegally for several years now. What's more, as president of Ueda Industries, Torao should have acquired more company stock by now; 7.5 wasn't that substantial. Unless…

"How much stock does Torao claim to have now?" Kaiba asked.

"Not including the 15 he stole, he holds 43. His father-in-law died and bequeathed the rest of his stock to his only, beloved daughter Tamako."

Kaiba smiled. "I see."

Now he understood perfectly. If Ueda, as legal guardian, could control Mokuba, he'd have 51.5 of company stock. He'd have the majority stockholdings, and this meant no one could remove him from presidency. It also meant any takeover of Ueda Industries would have to go through him first.

But why worry now? Ueda Industries was on the rise; no one threatened to take the presidency from him. Besides, he claimed to hold 58 of the stock already. He was untouchable. Unless he thought someone knew.

Was it that the law was finally catching up to him? Perhaps. On the other hand—Kaiba grinned—it could be that his estranged nephew had just taken the largest company in Domino from the most powerful man in town, and his own foster father. Perhaps, Torao was afraid he'd be next.

_Checkmate_. Kaiba knew precisely what to do.

"Good work," he told Matsumura. "That's all the information I need. You may go; your payment will arrive in the mail within a week."

Matsumura gave a slight bow. He loaded his folder into his bag with painful slowness. Kaiba walked over to a panel in the wall and pressed a small button.

"Yes, Mr. Kaiba," said his secretary from the intercom.

"Send my limo and forward the rest of my calls to my mansion. I'm going home for the day."

"Yes, Mr. Kaiba. Right away, sir." The intercom buzzed.

Kaiba opened his suitcase, put the laptop inside. He could still hear the faintly musical sound of the plastic rustling against the wind. He snapped his suitcase shut. Matsumura had already left and shut the door.

Torao was weak. Kaiba would strike quick. The incident of his uncle would be resolved within a week. Kaiba opened the door—

His secretary, a frail, pretty woman, barely older than he with a bad habit of talking too much, was exercising her vice now. She was sitting at her desk talking idly to Matsumura, who nodded, his watery eyes giving nothing away.

"Oh no," his secretary was saying, "usually he spends all day in that dratted office. But his brother's been having some trouble with bullies, so now he's going to pick him up—"

Kaiba slammed the door. His secretary jumped. She gulped. "Mr.-Mr. Kaiba."

"Funny," he said coldly, "I don't recall giving you permission to blab my affairs to total strangers."

"Yes, sir. It won't happen again."

"No, it won't." The secretary made a strangled look, and Kaiba turned to Matsumura. "As for you," he said, "you've been useful, but you've been dismissed. So mind your own business."

The detective gave another little bow. And without even bothering to explain himself, he slowly shuffled to the door.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Five**

**A Lesson**

There were three of them.

Short, fat, greasy junior high kids. Two of them were holding Mokuba's arms, while he kicked and shouted. The biggest and ugliest, the one with a thick, sneering lip, searched Mokuba's pockets and emptied his backpack, taking whatever was valuable. Papers scattered; cap monsters—that ridiculous game Mokuba played—fell to the ground and rolled.

"Let me go!" Mokuba screamed. "Dammit! When my brother comes, you'll be sorry! Let me go!"

Kaiba's hand was clenched around the door handle of his limousine.

Only three runts. He could take them without thinking. Wrench them off Mokuba. Throw them to the ground. Maybe pummel them a bit. Threaten to run them over with the limo as they ran off crying. It would be so easy to go out and rescue his little brother.

But something cold held him back.

It wasn't enough for Kaiba to beat them up. They would come back, or other bullies would appear. After all, Mokuba took the limo every morning to school; and even if he didn't, his family name alone would attract attention. Bullies were like jackals: persistent creatures bent on gobbling up whatever scraps of money or power they could lay hold of. They avoided people like Kaiba, knowing strength when they saw it, but relentlessly hunted the weak.

And Mokuba was weak.

The biggest bully punched Mokuba in the stomach. Mokuba groaned and fell forward. Kaiba calmly stepped out of the limo.

The two lesser bullies holding his arms—one with a shaved head and the other with a scrawny, crooked neck—started and dropped Mokuba's arms. They whispered at the biggest one, who didn't seem to care—he kept counting the money.

Mokuba looked up. "Niisama!" he yelped in delight. His blue eyes—like those of a puppy dog—seemed so sure his brother would rescue him.

Kaiba stared coolly back and didn't move.

"Five dollars! Is that it!" yelled the big bully. His face was like that of a pig's with a stub nose and greedy, little black eyes. He gave Mokuba an extra kick,

For one stinging moment, Kaiba could see the horrified, hurt look on his brother's face—but he walked past him. Swinging his steel suitcase, he stood in front of the largest bully.

The bully glared sullenly back at him. It made him look even stupider than before, like a wild boar that thought its tusks could protect him from hunters. Kaiba smiled.

"Mokuba," he said, not looking at him, "get in the limo."

He heard the scraping sound of Mokuba gathering his things; the limo door opened and shut.

"You've been picking on my brother," Kaiba said.

"Yeah, what of it?" said the bully. He was sizing Kaiba up, staring him up and down with his beady eyes. Arrogant and stupid.

"You're going to stop."

The pig smiled with his broad lips. "You wanna start something?"

"No," said Kaiba. "I want to pay you."

If possible his lips grew wider and his chest puffed. He apparently thought he won without even having to fight. That was his first mistake.

The bully with the vulture neck decided to speak up. "How much?"

Kaiba gave him a glare. "Don't waste my time, pipsqueak," he said. "I only negotiate with the leader."

This got the other two snarling, but it made the big bully's chest swell wider. He whispered something to the others, and they nodded begrudgingly. The big bully stepped forward.

"Whaddya have in mind?"

Kaiba turned briskly. "Get in my limo," he said, opening the door. "We'll negotiate the terms at my mansion."

The bully sauntered in. That was his second mistake.

_Idiot_, Kaiba thought, barely restraining a sneer of contempt. _Didn't your mother ever teach you not to get in strangers' cars?_

Mokuba was curled up in the seat opposite the driver, clutching his backpack. He looked bruised and angry. The bully sat directly across from him, sticking his feet up on the chair.

"Good thing you're brother came to save you," the bully jeered. "Or we'd have made you into ground beef."

Mokuba glared through his straggled black hair and shoved the bully's feet off the chair. "Get out your fat feet out of my face," he growled.

"You wanna say that again," said the bully, curling up his fist.

Mokuba looked out the window. He didn't say anything.

"This is a nice limo, you have," said the fat bully, turning to Kaiba. "Looks like your parents are loaded. You can buy your brother's safety, but it's going to cost you. It's going to cost you big." He laughed.

Kaiba took out his laptop and ignored him. Moron! What a stupid waste of time.

Once they arrived, Kaiba showed him in into one of the business offices he had. One without video cameras. "Sit down. What would you like to drink?"

"Whiskey," the bully replied.

This would be the type to drink. Kaiba rolled his eyes. He ordered the butler to prepare the alcohol. Kaiba himself had no use for drugs that made the brain slow and stupid, but he did keep alcohol, just for these occasions.

The bully drank from the glass the butler handed him. That was his third and finally mistake. Kaiba was so disgusted with how easily this fool had fallen into his trap, he wondered if finishing him off would be any fun at all.

"You're pretty rich," the bully was saying now, leaning back. "I think, I'll stop bothering you're brother, for, say, five thousand dollars. A month." He grinned, showing a gap in his teeth.

"I don't think so," said Kaiba quietly.

"Well, then it's a shame about your brother. Getting beat up every day's no fun, you kno—"

Kaiba swung his briefcase around and hit the bully solidly in the head. The bully fell backwards over the chair. He snarled and got to his feet.

Or tried to. The bully's face strangled into a look of horror as he realized he couldn't make his muscles move.

A brief smile flickered over Kaiba's lips. "You stupid, greedy pig. Gulping down whatever I feed you. The whiskey is laced with a toxin that will paralyze your muscles in about ten seconds after being consumed. You won't be able to do a thing. But you'll feel every blow I give you."

He swung his briefcase again. The bully howled.

"You are now under my control," said Kaiba, stepping on his hand so that the vein's cracked. He let the bully scream a bit. "Consider this a mild warning."

He lowered himself to the bully's level and looked him dead in the eye. The bully sweated. His mouth gaped and his beady eyes looked around frantically.

"If you ever hurt my brother again," Kaiba said softly, "I won't just make you suffer. I will kill you."

0 0 0

"Niisama, why did you drug him?" asked Mokuba softly. "You could have beaten him up without it." He was sitting in the armchair, pawing a chess piece. The king. It tipped back and forth.

"It's not enough to beat them up," Kaiba replied. "You have to destroy your enemies. Or they'll destroy you."

He set down his steel suitcase. There was a thin, red mark along the edge. The kid's blood. He took out a handkerchief and smoothly wiped it off.

"Mokuba," he said, "your performance out there was not admirable. How many times did you let them beat you up?" He looked at his brother for an explanation.

Mokuba's eyes sparked. "That's not fair," he protested, standing up. "I tried to fight back."

"And lost. You flailed about like a fish out of water," said Kaiba sarcastically.

"They're bigger than me!"

"So what? They have half a brain between them and that's if you round up. Did you see how easy it was to lure the big one here? Do you think you can't put some toxin in the other ones' drinks?"

"Oh," said Mokuba. He sat back down. He tipped the king and it tipped over; it lay on its side, like a wounded animal.

"I did not acquire these riches so that they could be used against us," Kaiba continued. "We have the money to do things. The next time people try to hurt you, _think_, strategize, then use the resources I have to defend yourself against them. I'm very busy, and I can't solve your every problem." He took out his computer.

He heard his brother sigh as his laptop lit up.

"I know, Niisama, I know."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Six**

**Uncle Torao**

Kaiba came to his uncle's mansion later that evening.

His limo pulled up to the large, black gate, holding in an abundance of leafy trees and rose bushes. There was a single security guard at the gate. He stepped to Kaiba's window.

"Mr. Torao is not expecting any guests this evening."

"He'll want to speak with me," said Kaiba. "I'm his nephew." The last word sounded strange; it twisted in his mouth. Kaiba made a sour smile.

The guard took out a walkie-talkie. "Name?" he asked.

"Kaiba Seto."

"Mr. Torao, there's a Mr. Kaiba Seto here to see you. He claims he's your nephew."

There was a pause. The walkie-talkie crackled. The guard listened carefully to the static.

"Right, he'll see you," the guard told Kaiba. "Please drive on in."

Kaiba folded his fingers. His uncle wasn't a complete coward, then; so much the better. He looked out the windows.

The lawns rolled with deep green hills; there were willowy trees and bright flowers. It would have been a pleasant place to live. Kaiba noticed a tree house and a swing set. Then the mansion came into view.

It was a tall, stately Victorian model: about three stories high, with a small tower in the back and cherubs built into the façade. There was a fountain at the front and more rose bushes—didn't his uncle ever get sick of them—and two bright new bicycles left out to rust in the open air.

Kaiba walked to the door. He barely had time to knock before his uncle opened it.

"Seto, what a surprise," he said, with feigned delight. "I haven't seen you in ages. Where've you been, my boy? Too busy to visit your old uncle."

His uncle's voice hadn't changed; it was rich and melodious and it ached with pleasantness. Kaiba's fingers twitched. His uncle babbled on.

"My how you've grown. Nearly as tall as my oldest boy, Isami. Isami," he called inside. "Come here and meet your cousin. Bring Toshizou."

"I'm not here for a social visit," said Kaiba.

"Nonsense, we're family here." His uncle gave him a charming smile. He had gotten a tan, making his blue eyes appear brighter. "Why don't you stay for dinner?"

"I've come about my inheritance."

His uncle's tan lost much of his color. He gulped; his Adam's apple bobbed.

"Your inheritance?"

A young boy burst through the door. "Mokuba? Mokuba's here!"

Kaiba stared at a small boy with short black hair and an oversized soccer jersey. When he saw Kaiba, his blue eyes started for a second. Then he smiled; he was missing a tooth.

"You must be Seto, then," said Toshizou. "Nice to meet you!"

Seto froze. For a moment, he thought he was looking at Mokuba.

"Yes," said his uncle, coming up besides his son. "Come in, have dinner, and meet the boys. It's been so long since they've seen you they barely recognize you, and your Aunt Tamako made roast beef for dinner." His voice was wheeling, full of honey and warmth.

Kaiba's sympathy broke.

"I'm here on business," he said. He noticed his oldest cousin coming up beside the door. Isami had let his brown hair grow long and had gotten violet contacts to cover his green eyes. He glared at Kaiba suspiciously. Kaiba looked back at his uncle.

"Perhaps, you'd rather I come back while you're at work," Kaiba offered. "I could tell the board how you got to be president by stealing the 15 of the stock that belonged to me and my brother. Or I maybe I could take the information straight to the press. I wonder if they'll still let you adopt Mokuba, knowing that you dumped him in an orphanage once and only want to adopt him now to get a hold of his 7.5 stock holdings." He smiled slightly.

The remaining color fled his uncle's face. "Boys, get back to dinner," he said in a low voice. Toshizou looked puzzled. Torao stepped out of the house and shut the door behind him.

"What do you want?" he asked.

His voice was different now, direct and to the point.

"From you?" said Kaiba. "Nothing. The way I see it, I win. I can prevent you from adopting my brother. I can buy his share and add it to mine to have 15 of the company. I can buy out the rest, force a takeover, and have you kicked out. I can send the company's stock so low you'll be bankrupt. I can do what I like. But I've decided to give you a chance."

His uncle licked his lips. "Yes?"

"Do you know of a game called Duel Monsters?"

Torao's eyes flickered. "My older boy likes it."

"It happens to be one of my favorite games," said Kaiba. "But playing by itself is boring. Each game must have a gamble, a risk."

"Come to the point."

"Meet me at the Kaiba Corp. labs next week and we'll have a friendly game. If you win, I'll forget I ever knew about the stock."

"And if I lose?"  
Kaiba smiled. "I'll think of something."

0 0 0

Shortly after their father's funeral, Uncle Torao, who always bought them expensive birthday presents, pulled up his Rolls Royce and announced pleasantly that he'd give them a ride to the orphanage. Aunt Tamako hugged them both, then gathered her sons, their cousins into their second car, a Mercedes, and headed back to the apartment.

It was a warm afternoon. Seto looked back at the tombstones: thousands and thousands of plain white rocks, gathered together like pigeons on a rainy day. They were all the same. Already, Seto couldn't tell his mother's grave marker from the others; his father's differentiated only in that it was freshly dug, with the smell of incense still hanging in the air.

So this was death: to be made the same, plain, nothing.

Mokuba clung to Seto's arm, sobbing. Seto barely felt the fingers tightly gripped around his arm, the small face pressing against his sleeve. He was numb.

The Rolls' engine began to hum. "Come on boys," said his Uncle cheerfully. "We don't have all day."

Seto opened the door. He made sure Mokuba went in first, then he sat down against the hot black leather. He shut the door.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," said Uncle Torao, as they drove. "It's hard losing a father." There was no emotion is his uncle's voice, just that same, irritating pleasantness. "Why, when my father died," his uncle continued, "I was overcome with grief. If I didn't have my older brother there, I don't know what I would have done. Brothers are great, very handy."

If only he would shut up. His words were stupid and annoying. Seto stared at the window and watched houses fly by. Mokuba's sobs subsided into a quiet snuffling.

"It's so sad, I only wish there were more I could do to help." Seto stared at the back of the slick, black head, bobbing as the words babbled out. "No really, if there's anything I can do, don't hesitate to ask."

The Rolls Royce still had that new car smell. Seto squeezed his hand into a tight fist and buried it in the black leather.

"It's too bad how things turned out. Orphaned so young. Such a shame."

At last, the orphanage came into view. It was a pleasant-looking place; it had a wide lawn and the house was white. It was autumn; the red leaves were falling, and some of the older children pushed them into big piles while the younger children scampered into them. They all stopped and stared as his uncle's car drove up.

"Well, boys this is your stop," said Uncle Torao.

Seto opened the door and got outside. He noticed Mokuba was still sitting in the car, looking frozen and afraid. Seto walked around to the other side, opened the door.

"Come on, Mokuba," said Seto. "Let's go."

Mokuba looked at him with sad blue eyes. Seto grabbed his hand and walked with him towards the orphanage. Seto walked with his back straight, unhesitating. Mokuba hung onto him, walking slowly. His Uncle unloaded their luggage and put it by the side of the road.

"Well, boys, I guess this is goodbye," said his Uncle. "Mokuba, be good, and try not to pick on your brother too much. And Seto, you watch out for that little brother of yours." It was the same thing he said every time he left, as though this were some family outing coming to an end.

Seto felt his brother's grip on his arm tightening. He noticed, for the first time it seemed, that his sleeve was wet from his brother's tears.

"Take care, boys. Goodbye." This last, buoyant remark was thrown from the already rolling windows. The black tint sealed off his uncle's handsome, smiling face, his merry blue eyes. Then his car drove off, the squeal of tires echoing in Seto's ears.

0 0 0

Kaiba hated him.

He thought of this as he worked, sleeves rolled up, typing furiously on his laptop. From the glass box, smoke came out like a thick heavy fog. Yellow eyes formed first; teeth and claws gleamed. The fog set into scales, rippling over a muscular body. The dragon roared: from it's mouth came a whirling stream of red.

Kaiba checked his monitor. No good. The body would just pass out.

He needed to go farther.

His eyes ached from the constant glare of the monitor. He studied the effect on the body's nerves. Those were simple enough; what was more difficult was fooling the brain.

Fool it into thinking the body was hot. Fool it into thinking the body was cold.

Fool it into thinking the body was dead.

Kaiba stretched. He craned his neck to look inside the box. The fire had erupted into a thousand tiny demons, cackling and biting, ten thousand sharp, tiny teeth. Each one was aimed to send a sharp jolt of electricity to a nerve in the body. There had to be pain, not just force, or the mind would resist the allusion.

He turned back to the keyboard.

It was all so simple, like a game of chess. Uncle Torao would come. Uncle Torao would play. And Uncle Torao would lose.

Then Kaiba would test the Death Stimulator on a real, human subject.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Seven**

**The Third One**

That night, the Kaiba Corporation lab was dim. It was raining lightly; the puddles sloshed against the squealing tires as Torao's limo pulled up.

"Good, you decided to come," said Kaiba.

"I didn't have much of a choice now, did I?"

"No, not really."

Kaiba led him deep into the lab, where deformed pieces of metal mingled with shadows. He paused, and flicked a switch at the wall.

Bright lights flooded the area, glinting against the glass box. His uncle flinched. He wiped sweaty palms against the edges of his coat.

"Here's where we play," said Kaiba, opening the door.

"Why there?" asked his uncle asked nervously.

"It creates holograms, the latest in dueling technology." Kaiba drew a random card, a Saggi, from his deck, and placed it over the table. Cackling, the dark clown rose from the cardboard. "It makes the game more exciting."

His uncle looked pale; beads of sweat sprang from his forehead.

"Now…now, I don't know about that. You never mentioned holograms before. These things could be dangerous."

"Don't be such a baby," Kaiba sneered. "I've already sold the technology to Pegasus J. Crawford. Within a month, this will be standard throughout the country. Consider yourself lucky. You'll be dueling with the cutting edge of technology."

Torao's mouth was grim. He sat down inside the box. Kaiba shut the door.

"Do you have your deck?" Kaiba asked Torao.

Slowly, his hand shaking, Torao drew out a deck of cards. Seeing them seemed to give his uncle strength. His fist steadied and his lips hardened to a smirk.

"Well, my nephew," Torao said, with ice in his voice. "Shall we begin?"

0 0 0

His uncle wasn't stupid, no; he had a strategy, which Kaiba soon figured out. His uncle's monsters were average to low strength, but he had stacked his deck with as much equip cards as it could hold, raising his monsters' strength rapidly. Kaiba's monsters were naturally strong, resulting in a stalemate—he chipped away at his uncle's life points and his uncle chipped away at his. Lesser monsters fell by the handful into the graveyard.

Kaiba didn't care. There was only one card that mattered.

He drew the Blue-Eyed White Dragon.

Torao cursed. "Trap hole," he said.

Kaiba flipped a magic card. "Remove trap."

"Trap hole," said Torao again, flipping a second card.

Again, Kaiba countered it.

"Dark hole."

Kaiba had no more counters.

Monsters on both sides of the fields collapsed. Kaiba watched his beautiful dragon, with wings spread and teeth sharp, crumple in the midst of the powerful magic. Without ever getting to show its true strength.

Like the dragon in Gozaburo's safe.

"You'll pay for that," Kaiba hissed. "One card face down. I end my turn."

0 0 0

His uncle's face broke into a wide, gleaming smile.

"And now," he said, "I play my ace in the hole: the Blue-Eyed White Dragon!"

It was beautiful.

Kaiba watched it rise from the table like a butterfly breaking from its cocoon. The wings stretched. The dragon's white skin was luminescent, rippling silver sleek over muscle and bone. Sapphire eyes stared at Kaiba, not with the dull gaze of other duel monsters, but with intensity and passion and life.

Somewhere in the distance, his uncle was speaking. "Did you see that coming, nephew? I knew Pegasus gave Gozaburo a Blue Eyes. But you didn't expect me to have one, did you? I searched it out, bought the last one. You're Blue Eyes is dead, but mine's is free to destroy your remaining life points."

And the dragon waited patiently, claws poised, teeth shining. It held itself proudly, nobly. _You deserve better_, Kaiba thought. _So much better than him._ He smiled. _Shall I be your new master?_  
"Blue Eyes attack!" his uncle finally yelled.

The dragon surged forward, wings flaring, long neck straining. It came directly at Kaiba, inches from him. Kaiba could see the white fire forming in its mouth, the heat grazing his face….

Roaring, the dragon fell back. Black chains, like many grasping hands, crept over its claws, its wings, its neck, pulled it back, restrained it. It flailed, it fought, it glared, but it was tied and helpless.

"What the—?" his uncle gasped.

"Shadow spell," said Kaiba. "Your monster loses 800 attack points, and it can't attack."

His uncle cursed.

Kaiba drew.

0 0 0

Kaiba knew what his card was before he even looked at it. It was almost as if, just by touching the card, he could feel its breath, its pulse.

Kaiba slammed the card onto the table. "I summon the Blue-Eyed White Dragon."

"What?" cried Torao. Hs mouth hung and twisted; his forehead shined in terror. "No! It can't be! Gozaburo only had one! You only have one!"

"I have two," said Kaiba quietly, a small smile on his lips. The white body was rising, the head craning up. "One from Gozaburo. And one I got on my own."

Wings splashed open. Claws jutted. The Blue Eyes opened its mouth to reveal polished, white teeth, sharp as glass.

His uncle's face trembled, pale to the lip.

"I took down Kaiba Gozaburo," said Kaiba calmly. "Did you really think a _worm_ like you could do anything to me?

"Blue Eyes, attack!"

0 0 0

His uncle's crumpled form fell forward onto the table, atop of his scattered, pathetic cards. He moaned. Kaiba stepped around him, out of the box. The hologram's force had been low; his uncle wasn't harmed. Yet. Kaiba shut the door.

"Do you know what the last words my father said to me were?" Kaiba asked, as he went over to the computer panel. His uncle blinked and looked up. He must have noticed the locked door. He walked up to it.

"'Each gamble has a risk and a gambler has to be ready to lose. The person who loses has to quietly comply and accept their fate!'"

His uncle, perhaps realizing the door wouldn't open, began pounding frantically on the glass. Kaiba punched in the final code, and swiveled back to the box to watch.

"In other words," Kaiba said, "the loser has to die!"

Steam hissed. White fog filled the box. His uncle's eyes, blue eyes, widened, shocked, terrified.

"Do you know why I asked you to play this game?" asked Kaiba. "Because I knew I wouldn't lose!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Eight**

**Autumn Leaves**

That night Seto came home with a strange look on his face.

Mokuba leapt from his armchair as soon as his brother walked into the hall. "Niisama the social worker came again."

Seto walked past him, into the library.

"Niisama!" Mokuba darted after him. This was important. He had just learned something this afternoon, and it made him feel sick to his stomach.

In the library, his older brother stood over a chess set placed carefully on a white, marble podium. His blue eyes were cold and lit. They glanced at Mokuba and burned right through him.

"Seto," said Mokuba, "the social worker brought someone. A woman." He swallowed. "She said her name was Tamako—she said she was our aunt."

Seto's face did not flicker. Something resembling a frozen smile was curled around his lips. He laid one long finger on a chess piece. The queen.

Mokuba felt uneasy. He didn't like his brother's mood; he couldn't read it. Did his brother know about his aunt and uncle? He must have.

A long time ago, before they met Gozaburo, Seto had mentioned some relatives who had stolen their inheritance and dumped them in the orphanage. Mokuba didn't remember that far back. He believed Seto, of course. But it never occurred to him their relatives still existed. Their relatives, like their parents, had always been something that was gone; something that Mokuba could not remember and that would not be coming back.

But the lady—their aunt—she came, she stood at the door, smiling at Mokuba. And she had their family name: the old one, the one they wore before they became Kaiba. She had brown hair and a soft voice and said she hoped they could all get along as one big, happy family.

Mokuba slammed the door on her.

Now, he marched over to the other side of the chessboard to look his brother in the eye. "Are they really going to adopt me?" he asked.

Seto lifted a hand.

Carelessly, as though swatting an insect, he swung his hand into the chess pieces. Mokuba ducked as pawns went flying. The pieces hit the bookshelves and clattered like falling rain. Seto picked up the board and calmly dropped it to the floor.

"Niisama, are you all right?" Mokuba asked.

Seto placed his duel deck on the podium, where the chessboard had been. The top card was a Blue-Eyed White Dragon.

"This is the third," he said.

Mokuba stared. "Three Blue-Eyed White Dragons?"

"As much as any deck can hold."

"But that means…"

"My deck is unbeatable." He lifted the top Blue Eyes card and watched it flicker in the light. "There is only one card that can threaten my deck now. The fourth Blue-Eyed White Dragon. But," he added, putting his card back down and straightening his deck, "I'll find that one soon enough."

Mokuba nodded, but his stomach twisted. "Um, the social worker?"

"Yes, about her. I have that all taken care of. The social worker won't be dropping by anymore, and Tamako won't bother you again."

"That…that was quick." He wanted to ask how he had done it, but Seto had that same possessed look he'd had when he said you could kill someone and get away with it. So Mokuba didn't ask.

Mokuba sank into an armchair and let out a loud sigh. It was over. His brother had taken care of the situation; they wouldn't be separated.

Mokuba jumped to his feet. "This is great! We should celebrate. Let's go out for ice cream!"

But Seto had already taken out his laptop. His eyes were fixed on the glowing screen.

"Niisama?"

Typing echoed: the faint tap, tap, tap, like a rapid heartbeat, and the rest of the library was quiet.

Mokuba sat next to his brother, legs crossed. They would be together. That was all that mattered.

"School went well," Mokuba told Seto. "I got my math test back. I only missed two out of 56, and it was a hard test. The teacher said my grade was the best in the class."

The tap, tap, tap replied. Mokuba picked at a fallen chess piece lying on the carpet.

"And you were right about the bullies," he told his brother. "They didn't bother me anymore." He rolled the chess piece around with one finger, over and over, as though rolling clay. "They actually came up to me and apologized. It turns out they play Cap Monsters. They showed me their collection at lunch, and…."

Mokuba realized the tapping had stopped.

"What did you say?" His brother's voice was low.

Mokuba looked up. Seto was staring at him, his eyes dark.

"They play Cap Monsters," said Mokuba uncertainly.

"They hurt you, humiliated you, and stole from you," said Seto. "They're your enemies, Mokuba, not your friends; you can't trust them."

"I know that Niisama…"

"You _don't_ know," Seto snapped. His fist clenched. For a moment, his eyes shone livid, bright and clear.

Then they frosted. His face became calm, frozen and blank.

"They made you look weak," his brother said. "_Weak_. Like a helpless puppy who barks and barks when children throw rocks at it, then runs off with its tail between its legs."

Mokuba felt like he'd been punched. "I…"

"And now you want to make friends with your enemies?"

Seto smiled. That brief, malicious curl of the lips that sent a chill through Mokuba, sharp as an electric shock.

"You're too nice."

0 0 0

Mokuba couldn't remember his parents. His earliest memory was the day his father died.

He remembered playing in a pile of red leaves his brother had scooped up for him. He crumbled them in his hand and threw the pieces into the air.

"More leaves," he yelled.

Seto laughed. "That's all that's in the yard." But he went to work, raking up what remained.

Mokuba jumped deep into the leaves. They brushed roughly against his face and made him sneeze. He dived down deeper, feeling secret and safe.

Someone grabbed his arm and jerked him out. Mokuba twisted, but the man wouldn't let go. The man had blue eyes. Mokuba began crying, because of the leaves and his arm.

"Mokuba be quiet!" his brother snapped. Mokuba stopped. His brother's face was pale and contorted. "What did you just say?" Seto asked the man.

"You're father's dead," said the man with blue eyes.

After that, Mokuba couldn't remember very well. The days blurred together, into crying and yelling and slamming of doors. It was Seto who yelled; his brother didn't cry, never cried, he just yelled and screamed, yelled and screamed at Mokuba to stop crying all the time like a stupid baby. Then suddenly, Seto became quiet.

He became quiet around the time they came to the orphanage.

Mokuba could remember the orphanage more clearly. The white, clean house and the rows of beds, girls playing ring-around-the-rosy on the lawn while the boys scooped up the leaves and jumped in them. They asked him if he wanted to play. Mokuba shook his head and clung to Seto's arm. They asked Seto.

"No," he said. "My brother doesn't want to."

The first few days, Mokuba wouldn't let go of Seto. Every time someone took his brother away, he would scream. He was afraid if his brother left him, he wouldn't return.

Then, one day, the administrator wanted Seto to talk to some people. Later, Mokuba would learn they were a couple interested in adopting him. What Mokuba remembered at the time was that his brother was gone for hours and hours. He screamed as loud as he could, but when his brother still hadn't returned, he started to cry.

And suddenly his brother was there.

"Don't worry," Seto said. "It's all right."

Mokuba hugged his brother, but he couldn't stop crying.

"It's alright," said Seto again, in a calm, reassured voice. "I won't let them separate us."

"Promise?" asked Mokuba. His voice was muffled in Seto's shirt.

"I promise," said Seto.

Mokuba let go and tried to wipe his eyes. Seto put his hand on Mokuba's shoulder.

"Don't cry Mokuba," Seto told him. "One day, I'll let you lead a good life."

Mokuba looked up. His brother's face was kind, but his eyes were serious. Seto bent down, and said, in a low voice, as though it was a secret,

"That's why we can't be nice to anyone. If we allow others to see our weakness, we're done for."

Mokuba nodded. Seto smiled.

"I'll take care of you, Mokuba," he said. "No matter what. And I won't let anyone separate us. Ever."

0 0 0

Mokuba shot to his feet.

"You didn't let me finish," he said. "The only reason I talked to those stupid morons was to find out their weakness."

The slight, eerie smile left his brother's face. Seto's eyes tilted high, skeptical and cold.

"You see," Mokuba continued, his voice rising, "now that I know they play Cap Monsters, I can use it to trap them. I bet I'm a better player than they are!"

"I hope so," said Seto dryly over his shoulder. He turned back to his laptop. "Don't play if you're going to lose."

Mokuba's face flushed. "I won't lose! I'm not weak!"

The tap, tap, tap resumed.

"I won't lose," Mokuba muttered. He clenched his fist.

"I have to beat them myself," Mokuba told Seto. Told the laptop computer; told the tall bookshelves, the cracked pawns lying across the rug. "I have to show them I'm strong. And I can never trust them."

But why did it have to be that way? There was an acid sloshing in Mokuba's stomach. Conscious.

More weakness.

Mokuba kicked the pawns, kicked the tassels of the rug, scuffed his shoe across the wooden floor 'til it burned. Damn. He couldn't be weak. Not again.

_Mokuba your performance out there was not admirable. How many times did you let them beat you up?_

Eventually, he became tired of kicking things. He began sweeping the chess pieces in a pile near the chessboard with his shoe; the maid would pick everything up the next morning.

And in morning, Mokuba would talk to the bullies. He would pretend to be their friend. He would get them to show him their monsters. He'd lure them back to the mansion, like his brother had shown him. Then, he would….

He would destroy them.

Mokuba shivered. He glanced at his brother. Seto's face was buried behind the laptop, the click of the keyboard unceasing, the faint whirl of the hard drive loading up. The fireplace cracked, but Mokuba's fist felt cold.

Deep down…where Mokuba didn't want to admit…where he couldn't admit…he didn't care one way or the other about the bullies; the way they had beat and pushed him and punched him didn't hurt anymore compared to this, and deep down Mokuba wasn't angry.

He was scared.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Nine**

**Matsumura's Other Client**

"I've completed my report," said Matsumura. He pushed the yellow file marked Kaiba across the table. The wood was a fine mahogany, probably dating from the 1700s. His client had a taste for the Romantic.

"In addition to Kaiba Corp., I've added some information about both brothers. Mostly impressions I've had." Matsumura folded his glasses. "You can check it if you like."

"That won't be necessary. I'm sure you've done your research well."

"I take pride in that." The room was classical architecture, with white pillars and columns. Matsumura couldn't help notice a large portrait of a young girl in the center. She smiled sweetly; one of those pretty, blond-haired, blue-eyed types.

"It's come to my attention," said his client, raising his glass of red liquid, red as his suit, "that Kaiba Corporation is currently involved in vicious, hostile takeover of Ueda Industries. For some strange reason, this has sent Ueda Industries stock plunging downward." He sipped the wine. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about this would you?"

"Yes, I helped orchestrate it. He sent me to spy on the president of Ueda Industries specifically. His uncle, it turned out."

His client laughed shrilly. "My, my, the boy does turn against his relatives. Vengeful, isn't he?"

"I can't say his motive was vengeance."

"Oh, no?" his client said. "Pray tell, what other motive could there be?" His client's voice was light and musical, but his one brown eye peered at Matsumura closely; his other eye, hidden behind thick, shoulder-length white hair, seemed also to be watching.

"Kaiba and his uncle were both struggling for custody of his younger brother, Mokuba."

"All that fuss for one little boy?"

"He's the only family Kaiba has left at this point. The only one he hasn't tried to destroy."

"True." His client's eye glinted. Then, sipping his wine again, "They say Torao went mad. I place my bets on Kaiba-boy. Do you know anything about it?"

"No, my job was done by then. But I wouldn't past him. He's a dangerous person to cross. I wouldn't do it lightly, if I were you."

"I see. Well, thank you, Mr. Matsumura," said Pegasus J. Crawford. He shook the detective's hand. "You've been very helpful."


	11. Chapter 11

**Epilogue**

**Seto's Frustration**

_At the Death-T Tournament, just before the Fifth Level…._

Mokuba lost.

I could tell he had lost before the game even ended. I had expected him to lose and so was not surprised in the least by Yuugi's victory, but Mokuba was clearly shocked. Even after I'd given Yuugi his instructions, my brother was still frozen in his seat, staring at his cards and gaping like a goldfish on dry land.

At last he looked up at me. "Niisama, I…."

"Long time ago," I said calmly, "I had the feeling that at my back, a useless dog like you, was staring at me."

Mokuba flinched, as though I'd slapped him. That irritated me, and his wounded expression, like that of kicked puppy, irritated me further. Did he expect me to be sympathetic? Did he expect praise, comfort for losing a game I'd told him not to play?

"I told you before that people who play with fire burn themselves at the end!" I said, nearly yelling at him.

But those wide, wavering blue eyes continued to mock me. They made something inside my chest turn and twist; they challenged my strength.

I had always been weak around my brother. But that would change.

"You should understand," I continued, "only the winner can step out of that box! The loser will be punished! That is the rule of the game!"

Then, because that same heavy turning in my chest was making me slightly nauseous, I quickly typed in the command to activate the Death Stimulator.

Leaning back in my chair, I turned away from the screen.

My brother had chose this fight, a fight he couldn't win, and he would face the consequences. It was as simple as that. Although why he had decided to face Yuugi still puzzled me. What the hell was he fighting for anyway?

I knew what I was fighting for. Yuugi had humiliated me; his grandfather had refused to yield to me the fourth Blue-Eyed White Dragon. I smiled. That had changed. I had the fourth now. I had torn it up. What was the fourth to me, but a useless piece of paper? All the dragons I loved were in my deck. As for Yuugi, very shortly, I would duel him, and he would lose. As Yuugi faced the Death Stimulator, all my pain and humiliation would swept away with Yuugi's utter defeat, washed away with his last, desperate howl….

"NIISAMA HELP!"

My brother's voice came ripping through my thoughts. Out of reflex, I glanced at the screen.

And there was Mokuba looking small and frightened against the snarling, slavering, yellow-eyed beast. Mokuba shook; the dragon, showing its teeth, grinned hideously. Suddenly, the broad, ugly snout jutted out; the sharp, teeth snapped forward.

Toward my little brother.

I turned off the monitor.

But that same feeling, the nauseous twisting, pressed against me, harder this time. It gnawed in my chest. I gritted my teeth, clamped my hand over the armrest. Tightening and tightening my fingers, until my whole fist throbbed.

My little brother. Damn. What a distraction.

Slowly I unwound my grip. This tournament had never been about Mokuba; it was about beating Yuugi, finally and absolutely. I folded my hands; in my chest, the aching lessened and became cool.

Now that the monitor was off, the room was dim and quiet. Just the way I liked it.

Yuugi had challenged me, and I would crush him. I would derive great satisfaction from running the Death Stimulator on him. But revenge was only secondary in my calculations.

Someone was after Kaiba Corp.

I didn't know whom exactly. But I knew a bid had been made. I also knew members of the Big Five were plotting with this scum. They had helped me take Kaiba Corporation from my foster father. Now they thought they could take it from me.

That was my primary reason for holding this tournament. To show them that anyone who stood in my way would be crushed. Killed. Now, of all time, I couldn't afford to show weakness. I would execute my strategy perfectly. Yuugi would be my scapegoat. The rest would soon fall.

Beneath my jacket, the locket with Mokuba's picture burned against my skin. I took it out, yanked until the chain broke. I left it on the counter near the computer console.

I picked up my deck. Three Blue Eyed White Dragons.

I smiled as I left the room. It was time to face Yuugi.

0 0 0

END

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All right, I couldn't end the story on that depressing note.

We all know Kaiba loses. He plays all three Blue-Eyed White Dragons, but Yuugi pulls an Exodia out of his deck, and Kaiba is crushed.

In the manga (to the best of my knowledge), Yuugi does something called "heartbreak," which literally breaks Kaiba's heart, like a puzzle. It renders Kaiba comatose. But Yuugi's not out of the water yet. Many of Kaiba's hired thugs are lurking around, ready to hurt Yuugi and his friends, regardless of Yuugi's victory. But just as everyone is prepared for a big, messy fight, Mokuba appears and calls the thugs off.

Mokuba decides to trust Yuugi with their story: how he and Seto became orphaned, how Kaiba Gozaburo adopted them, how Kaiba usurped his father and took his company, and how Kaiba's obsession with death began.

Yuugi tells Mokuba that his brother is still in there, trying to put the pieces of his heart back together. Mokuba is encouraged, believing for the first time, his brother can come back. Yuugi leaves; his work here is done.

Shortly after, Pegasus begins the Duelist Kingdom Tournament and makes his move against Kaiba Corporation. Since Seto is still comatose, Mokuba, by himself, fiercely tries to save his brother's company. Pegasus kidnaps him and takes him to Duelist Kingdom.

Seto, for reasons unknown to me, wakes from his coma and finds his brother missing. He flies to Duelist Kingdom to rescue him. This is where some of Seto's noblest acts take place, as he risks both his life and his soul to get his brother back.

(I haven't read this part of the manga, but I assume its similar to the anime series: Seto fights his way through Pegasus' goons to get to Mokuba, Pegasus sucks Mokuba's soul from his body, Seto duels Yuugi and wins in a controversial manner, Seto duels Pegasus and loses, Pegasus sucks Seto's soul from his body, Yuugi duels Pegasus and—of course—wins. Everyone's souls are restored.)

Mokuba wakes first and he and Yuugi's gang search the castle for Seto. Seto wakes from a dungeon and sees his younger standing there. His younger self leads him straight to Mokuba. The brothers are united. They embrace.

Chibi Seto happily puts the last piece of his heart together, and disappears. Yuugi comments, "To Kaiba, Mokuba is the last piece of the puzzle. The puzzle of his heart is finally complete."

Aww, isn't that sweet? See, despite the dark nature of my story, I'm really a sucker for happy endings.


End file.
